


Five Point Two

by brokenhighways



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Arguing, Banter, Crack, Epic Bromance, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:02:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/pseuds/brokenhighways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John hates therapists, psychologists and all of the other -ists that try to get into people's heads. And really, that's what he hates about them the most. So he decides to bring Dorian along to his latest appointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Point Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psychmerlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychmerlin/gifts).



> Apparently I am incapable of writing stories under 2000 words, but here I am proving people wrong!! :P Also, this is probably terribly unfunny but I love these two!

Detective John Kennex has just finished his lunch. If he was to rate the experience out of ten, it'd be a five point two, and all of that is only down to the fact that the Deli on 3rd St made the best turkey subs ever. However, his partner Dorian seems to be doing his utmost to ensure that John never enjoys a meal again. And yeah, so maybe Dorian can't eat. That's rough and all but John's not going to starve himself just to spare the DRN's feelings. Dorian doesn't seem to understand this so he makes every meal time unbearable. _"John, must you chew so loudly?_ " _"John, we are back on patrol in five minutes, maybe you should get that to go."_ _"John, do you realise that your sandwich has over 500 calories in it. That cannot be good for your cholesterol, man. Hold on---yup, just ran a bio scan. That stuff's not good for you."_

 

Not to mention the whole _making_ _him eat a live slug_ thing.

 

So lunch is a tricky time for them. Of course, that's when the therapist at the precinct wants to talk to them. Maldonado had insisted, what with John having to be coaxed back to work and thrown back into the action with an MX he wasn't comfortable with, leading to the destruction of said MX and him eventually being partnered up with Dorian. All of that is apparently bound to take its toll on John, because humans are fragile, or whatever. The therapist gives him the same speech every time. This is why he has every intention of avoiding the whole thing. Naturally, Dorian has other ideas.

 

"Where are you going?" he asks when John drives past the building where the therapist's office is situated. "You have an appointment at one o'clock, John. It's 12:59." John ignores Dorian and keeps on driving. Seconds later, the car swerves towards the curb and grinds to a halt. John turns to glare at Dorian and curses the fact that they were on a residential street.

 

"What are you doing?" John growls when Dorian doesn't offer up an explanation for his behavior.

 

"We are going to that appointment, John," Dorian says. "Even if I have to drive us there from the passenger’s seat."

 

John knows better than to argue.

 

~

John hates therapists, psychologists and all of the other -ists that try to get into people's heads. And that's what he hates about them the most. So he decides to bring Dorian along.

 

"Really, man," Dorian says when John asks him. John shoots him a look of disbelief. This colloquial thing will never be acceptable to him. Dorian glances at him smugly. "I would be happy to come and hold your hand for you John." John rolls his eyes and is grateful that the therapist, Dr Shapiro chooses that moment to appear. She guides them into her office.

 

"Detective Kennex," she greets him warmly before turning to Dorian. "Oh, and you must be...?" She trails off in that way that therapists do. No doubt she's trying to psych John out.

 

"This is Dorian, the new--or well, _old_ \--DRN that I've been partnered with," John explains. "You can just call him ‘Pain In The Ass’ like I do."

 

"Well, at least he's not calling me a synthetic anymore," Dorian says as he sits down next to John. He turns to Dr Shapiro. "I keep telling him that he's got to lighten up, but he doesn't listen to me."

 

Dr Shapiro looks a little confused. John hides a smirk. Looks like she won't make him talk about his feelings.

 

"So, let's talk about this new partnership," she says. "How would your both rate your working relationship out of ten?"

 

"Seven," John says, just as Dorian says "Five."

 

"Okay," Dr Shapiro says. "Why five, Dorian? Is Detective Kennex not a good police officer?" John turns to give Dorian the stink eye? Five?

 

_Please._

 

"Well, he can stand to improve his people skills a little," Dorian says. "Other areas of improvements needed are punctuality, consideration for others---"

 

"Are you serious right now?" John asks. "If it wasn't for me, you'd still be in a lab somewhere with a tangled mess of wires sticking out of your ears."

 

Dorian's face lights up, blue lights flashing as his jaw tightens. "See what I have to put up with?" John scoffs. Dorian is going to find himself warming the passenger seat of the cruiser for the rest of the day after this. _Five_?

 

"All I know is that he has some serious negative energy," Dorian continues. "Perhaps you will help him with that, Dr Shapiro."

 

"I..." She starts to respond but John is not going to let that comment slide.

 

"Sorry doc," he says, "but I don't see how not wanting to play good cop to his Robocop means that I have _negative_ energy."

 

"Really?" Dorian exclaims. "Robocop? Here we go again with the insults."

 

"You're loud, you never shut up, you offer unwanted opinions all the time. You violate my personal space and try and make me talk about my synthetic leg," John snaps. He turns to Dr Shapiro. "This morning he made me listen to Britney Spears--”

 

“Britney Spears?” the doctor asks. John stares ahead blankly as a bubble-gum, auto tuned pop song fills the room. Once Dorian is done trying to destroy their eardrums, he goes into encyclopaedia mode.

 

“Yes. Britney Jean Spears, born December 2, 1981, is an American recording artist and entertainer. Born in McComb, Mississippi, and raised in Kentwood, Louisiana, she performed acting roles in stage productions and television shows as a child before signing with Jive Records in 1997. Spears's first and second studio albums, ...Baby One More Time and Oops!... I Did It Again became international successes, with the former becoming the best-selling album by a teenage solo artist….” Dorian trails off once he notices John’s raised eyebrow.

 

“Uh, wow,” Dr Shapiro says. “That’s very insightful, Dorian.”

 

“Would you like me to play another sample?” Dorian asks, oblivious to her discomfort. And really, what’s new?

 

“No, thank you,” she says hurriedly. She glances at her projected desk-clock. “That’s all we have time for today. John, I’ll see you next week. Alone.” John grumbles under his breath but he accepts the appointment chip when she gives it to him.

 

“I know what you did back there,” Dorian says as they’re walking through the parking lot. A drone whizzes past them and John hopes that there’s something for them to investigate soon. “You purposely invited me in there, knowing fully well that I could be easily drawn into an argument. As a result, you didn’t have to discuss any personal matters with Dr. Shapiro.” John unlocks the car and slides in, not waiting for Dorian to get in before starting the engine.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says when Dorian is settled next to him.

 

“Of course you don’t,” Dorian shoots back tersely. “And come tomorrow, you’ll deny that you called me _Robocop_.”

 

“You were asking for it.”

 

“Oh really, John,” Dorian says. “If I recall, you started it when you called me a pain in the ass.”

 

“When did I say that?” John asks knowing fully well that he said it, but still Dorian can’t prove anythin---

 

Dorian’s face lights up, blue sparks racing each other in tandem. The windscreen-screen is activated and John turns to see himself saying: “ _This is Dorian, the new--or well, old--DRN that I've been partnered with. You can just call him ‘Pain In The Ass’ like I do._ ”

 

There’s silence in the car.

 

“I hate you,” John says, just before he takes off, not caring that he’s over the speed limit.

 

“Of course you do, John,” Dorian says with a stupid grin. “Of course.”

 

John seriously needs a better day job. 


End file.
